


As Above, So Below

by CasieMod



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Gen, Post Season 2, all work and no friends makes Alucard a very sad boi, high gothic, if Alucard kept a journal, so much goth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23052130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasieMod/pseuds/CasieMod
Summary: Alucard reflects on the task ahead of him after Trevor and Sypha have left.Post season 2.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this over a year ago and am only posting now before I watch the new season.

It has been weeks since they left. . . . . Weeks since I've been left with trying to make some sense of this mess, trying to find order again. Trying to do what was asked of me. Such an enormous task lies before me. . . . but I find myself with no will to do much of anything at all.

I had lingered in that room with the ghosts of my past life. I had cried until my well had run dry and numbness ruled in its stead. And I was left with a silence that drowned out belief in a world beyond these doors.

This place has been my home my whole life and yet now, it feels . . . alien. It. . . . has a new presence. . . . its soul fractured, its essence . . . stolen.

Father once said the castle was a creature of chaos, yet its changeable nature was my playground as a child. I'd found it inviting, welcoming; it was like second nature. Now its long hallways, alcoves, and tucked away corners are imposing. Demanding something of me. Vibrating with a quiet anxious energy. Hungry. Perhaps if I stay here too long, it will consume me.

I see the shadows loom. I feel eyes peer at me from them. Questioning and silent beings that I cannot see yet I know exist. Waiting. Biding their time.

They watch me as I walk down corridors, their wispy forms lengthen and grow at my back, ephemeral entities that twist and curl about me. They swallow up the sound of my footsteps.

And they wait. Wait for instructions that I cannot give them.

I'm beginning to understand how my father must have felt, alone in this castle for so long.

But he had such strength of will to command it all. Tame and conquer it. Now that the question, the task has been put to me, I'm beginning to doubt that I do.

It is no longer my home, but it is here that I dwell.

\--

And so I retreated, more and more, to the Belmont hold. From one place of death to another. Odd, is it not? To find comfort, in one's own destruction.Two worlds that could not be further apart, brought into each others' tender embraces. 

Life and death. Hate and love. So much more closer and intertwined than most would ever want to admit.  
And now in the form of these two monumental structures, a brazen testament to it all. 

My childhood home and your childhood home. . . . As above, so below, he'd said.

Did he really know the full extent of that saying? Did he mean to gift me all his family's sorrows, too? 

No, it was an earnest gift . . . . . something I'm sure his ancestors would not have anticipated in the least. I certainly did not.  
Belmont is a man of little words, and is instead one of actions. Which is why what he did says so much. It was a sign of trust. . . . . From someone whose entire family bedrock lay rooted in war against me and my kind.

As I wander among the rows of his family's archives, I think of this, how indelibly set at odds we were from the beginning, and how much he seemed to initially confirm my fears and concerns. The man carried the lingering scent of alcohol on him like it had seeped into his soul, and his demeanor spoke to me of an all-consuming apathy. At any moment I had thought he might just proclaim 'To hell with everything!' and retreat once more into the bottle he had so obviously been living in before.

As I fought him, I saw that truly, he did not fear for his own life. I saw a fire burning within the depths of those blue eyes as I bested him and held him down, but even in defeat, he did not give in. He laughed in the face of death itself, content, and considering a draw as a success.

And so he made me laugh, with this foolhardiness, with this honesty. It was hard to remember the last time I had laughed. And it was all too easy to tease him. We traded in insults, it became the language we spoke, and yet at some point that I cannot discern, it evolved a contrary nature. It was with insult he chose to tell me that he no longer fought against me, but alongside me. It was with an insult that he gifted me the entire wealth of his family's generations.

And in the midst of that, he told me he wanted me . . . . . . .to live. . . . . . . 

And so I am left with something else I did not anticipate. . . . First I was aggravated by his presence , and now . . . . by his absence.

\--

As I pull up a chair at a table in the hold, part of me imagines that just the act of pouring a glass of wine has the ability to summon Belmont, and that turning a page in a book will bring the speaker close. But such magic does not exist here.

Sypha. . . . I can still feel her here too, like an echo.

Every time I turn a corner in the library, a part of me expects to find her there, pouring over pages.

She reminds me so very much of Mother. So strong-willed, bold, kind-hearted, giving, hopeful. . . . . loving. I tried to endear myself to her. I thought, surely with our mutual appreciation for scholarship and intellectual pursuits, we would grow close, that she would confide and share with me so many wonderful stories that I know she carries within her. Including her own. I found myself longing for it, even as I started this journey with her with no such intention. 

She did not know that I could hear what she said that night to Belmont. Even as my mind was distracted by the catalog of death on display, my ears still heard, and my mind preserved her words.

. . . _His sadness is like an icy well. It's bottomless. And it swallows up your voice_. . . 

Apparently, my efforts to keep it from them were all for naught.

But I don't begrudge her these honest thoughts, even if it pains me to know them. 

Though she was so very kind to me, pity lay buried alongside with it. As time passes with only my own company to keep, I understand, even more than I did before. . . . . . 

I am a part of two different worlds, yet not truly belonging to either.

\--

And now every day I am left with the reminders.

And my mind . . . fills my ears with their voices, my eyes with their visages, trying to account for the lack that I feel. Days blur into one another. The boundaries of dreams disappear. I am not quite sure if I sleep or wake.

The memories and ghosts of both places blend together... it becomes hard to distinguish which is which anymore. But are they really any different? Memories . . . just the ghosts we keep inside our minds.

Why did I ever agree to what Trevor suggested.... I don't think I can do this.

I hope . . . I hope they are well. I do not know when I will see them again, or if I ever will. The more I think of it.....I should. . . I should have said something. I should have said something more. But what that would have been, I do not know. It's no use. They are off to do their part. They have a destiny. They were fated. I have my part as well. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . But I was stronger with them . . . . at my side.  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  
And here I thought I had no tears left.


	2. Podfic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd asked the wonderful K ASMR to narrate this piece since he does an excellent Alucard voice and am thankful he obliged. You can find his work [here](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCnjEoklVisTCl3gqZ4KNML)

[Narration](https://youtu.be/l-6AhCWw9l8) as done by K ASMR

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was inspired by the end of season 2 and the thought I had of 'What if Alucard starts to go insane being alone in the castle for a long time?' Given the game canon, it feels plausible, though I don't think the show would go there. There's only so much goth they can handle.  
> This version of Dance of Pales also [helped](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJejVVlasWw)


End file.
